


Forest Eyes

by mogar



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:51:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogar/pseuds/mogar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are alone.<br/>You are all alone.<br/>You push yourself through thick foliage, tripping over roots that are streaming out of the dirty ground and cut your bare arms on messy branches. What, well, where is this place? Everywhere you’ve lived beforehand had been far from any sort of jungle or plant growth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ok this was originally for a writing comp but it went over the word limit so i fixed it up a bit and here we go

You are alone.

You are all alone.

You push yourself through thick foliage, tripping over roots that are streaming out of the dirty ground and cut your bare arms on messy branches. What, well, where is this place? Everywhere you’ve lived beforehand had been far from any sort of jungle or plant growth.

“Hello?” you call out, your words coated in a southern accent.

No reply.

You call out again, hoping for another sound other than your own voice to hit your ears.

“Who’s there?” a thick British voice calls.

That is certainly not your voice. And boy does that fact relieve you. Against your will, you smile at the sound of the stranger’s voice. You’re not alone.

Oops.

Next thing you know, you’re chest to chest with an unknown boy. He looks about your age. And he’s probably pretty strong, considering you were almost thrown back running into him. His forest eyes stare at you in what seems to be awe through his thick glasses.

Then he grins.


	2. Chapter 2

You flicker your drowsy eyes open to the ear piercing sound of your alarm. You groan and grump, before picking your clock up and calmly clicking it off. You wish you knew why you woke up so early each day. You push your bulky blanket from your unclad chest, and shudder at the contact of the chilly air to your warm, bare skin. You slide your tongue along your dry bottom lip, tracing the two new foreign pieces of metal placed just under your lip. You still have to get used to those.

Your slender legs fall out of your bed and meet the wooden floor beneath. It makes an unpleasant, hollow thump, which echoes through your scarcely furnished room, and you cringe. Your eyes dart to your left, checking the time on your clock that you had ceased to check before.

Oh.

You have no idea how you ended up setting your alarm late.

You scramble out of your tangled blankets, both of your feet hitting the floor firmly, nearly getting you to slip, which throws you off. You jerk out your drawers hastily, clutching the first shirt and pair of jeans you manage to get your eyes on, slipping them on as fast as you can without getting your arms caught. You debate ironically getting a piece of ‘anime toast’, just for the sake of running down the street with a crispy slice of toast clenched between your teeth. But you instead shake your head at the thought. You’re already late enough. You slide your shades up your face securely and unlock your door, all the while shoving your phone into your single pocket.


	3. Chapter 3

The café is pretty damn empty.

God knows, it’s probably actually closed.

Either way, they let you inside, as well as Roxy.

You sigh contently and run your fingers through your white, unkempt fringe. You made it. You actually met Roxy during your rush to meet her at the café. You scoffed at the thought that she would actually be on time. It was Roxy, and she was the type of girl who would probably have wine for dinner, and breakfast, if she could.

You both have a great time over lunch. You convinced her after a while to order a soda instead of a cocktail, claiming it was too early for alcohol anyway. She bought the excuse, ordering a creaming soda over a martini, much to your relief.

After a while of her giggling and prodding at your face, pointing out several things such as your colonies of freckles, she has to leave. She almost carries you outside in a full embrace as she goes. When she says goodbye, trotting along the streets backwards and still waving, you step out the door to leave as well.

But instead, you’re met with a pair of forest eyes hidden by thick glasses.

And he grins.


End file.
